My voice does get a little gruffy every once in a while, but I've never lost it 100 percent. I do try to warm up my voice before I go out there, but it's more of a nonchalant approach to taking care of it. Just some scales - deep throat valve sounds and what-not. I never like to stress out about it or worry about teas.

I'm a rapper turned singer and you can tell that he smoke, but I don't need my vocal cords all I hit are C notes.

Whatever you are going through in your personal life also affects your voice and that is exactly what I was going through hence I took time out around mid-2021

I got this big fear of doing smoking jokes in my act and showing up five years from now goin' [puts mic to his neck and speaks as if he had a mechanical larynx] 'good evening everybody, remember me, smoking's bad. [puts cigarette to neck and mimics smoking it] Eeww. You ever seen somebody do that? I've seen someone do that. Let me tell you something — if you're smoking out of a hole in your neck [mimics it again] I'd think about quitting. And that's just me, ya know.

Singing into a cold wind is the worst nightmare for any singer. You could hear it in the voice.

I used to be a folk singer, but I was... dreadful. I had a voice like a goose farting in the fog.

You do not want to hear your voice in every song, as it gets monotonous. So, it’s important to have the right kind of balance.

When people hear that I don't smoke, don't drink and am a vegan, they think that I am a miserable cow. But I'm not. I don't eat meat as a moral choice, and I don't eat dairy products because they are very mucus-forming, and that is bad for your voice. I work out because I am asthmatic and being a singer and having asthma is not the best combination.

There's something really personal about your voice, where if people talk shit on your guitar, "Ugh, he played out of tune," etc., you can, in your head, blame it on something else, but when you fuck up with your singing, that's part of you [...] So I guess I'm an insecure enough dude that I just went back and really studied and tried to sing better.

When I was a boy and I sang, my voice felt to me like a leak sprung from a small and secret star hidden somewhere in my chest and whatever there was about me that was fragile disappeared when my mouth opened and I let the voice out. We learned, we were prisons for our voices. You could want to try and make sure the door was always opened... We weren't something struck to make a tone. We were strike and instrument both. If you can hold the air and shake it to make something, you learn, maybe you can make anything. Maybe you can walk out of here on this thin, thin air.

I'm learning to hate the sound of my own voice.

The better the singer's voice is, the harder it is to believe what they're saying. So I turn my weaknesses into an advantage.

I feel moved to sing. It is very wrong to resist an impulse to sing; to hold back a natural evacuation of joy is as injurious as to hold back any other natural issue. It makes a man spiritually costive, and plugs him up with hard, caked, thwarted merriment. This, in the course of time, poisons his whole system and is likely to turn him into that most detestable of beings, a Dry Wit. God grant that I may never be a Dry Wit. Let me ever be a Wet Wit! Let me pour forth what mirth I have until I am utterly empty — a Nit Wit.

My voice had a long, nonstop career. It deserves to be put to bed with quiet and dignity, not yanked out every once in a while to see if it can still do what it used to do. It can't.